One Small Hitch
by foreverily
Summary: On a flight home to Columbus for a family wedding, childhood friends Bellamy and Clarke innocently agree to fake an engagement to make Bellamy's dying father happy. But can what started out as a charade morph into something more?
1. Chapter 1

"We're gonna miss our flight" Bellamy gasped out breathlessly.

"We'll catch another one" Mel responded as she assaulted his jaw with kisses.

Bellamy groaned when she reached his pulse point and began to nip and suck the tender flesh. Their flight was at five and it was only two in the afternoon. They still had at about half an hour before they had to leave for the airport. And even if they missed their plane, he and Mel could always fly stand-by. It's not like the flights were exactly booked going to Columbus in the middle of March. But at the same time, the wedding was in two days and he wasn't exactly keen on missing a two thousand mile flight to Ohio so close to the wedding date. And not to mention he was supposed to meet Clarke and her mystery man at the airport, having booked the same flight as Clarke via the request of her brother and his best friend, Wick.

Mel continued her assault on his jaw and moved her hands from his shoulders to the hem of his shirt, playing with the end, her intent clear. Bellamy shifted on the couch and was ready to cave in, flight to Columbus be damned, when his gaze landed on her bag with a magazine sticking out. His brow furrowed as the read the title of the magazine. "What?" he mumbled, sure that he read the title wrong. Pushing Mel off of his chest, he reached out and grabbed the stack of magazines Mel had crammed in her satchel. "What is this?" Bellamy asked incredulously.

"What's what?" Mel lifted herself off his lap and looked over at the paper that had grabbed Bellamy's attention. "Oh, that's just something to read on the plane."

"Destination I Do, Get Married?" Bellamy flipped through the magazines unceremoniously as he read the titles. "Wedding Star, The Bride Guide?" Bellamy tossed the offending articles on the coffee table. "Mel, it's not a thirty-six hour flight to Columbus."

"Well, we're going to a wedding." Mel responded nonchalantly

Bellamy rolled his eyes. "Yeah. My best friend's Mom's wedding."

Mel simply shrugged. "Your parents are going to be there."

"And?"

"And, since we're taking things to the next level-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa! Mel!" Bellamy looked at her suspiciously. "Wha-what exactly do you think this trip to Columbus is about?" He and Mel had met a month ago at a bar and after some drunken flirtation, had been steadily sleeping together ever since. She was a nice girl, cute and witty, but he knew he was not ready for marriage, for a committed relationship, and he did not like the direction this conversation was heading.

Mel sat back on her heels, smiling suggestively. "Come on, Bell. I know you invited me to Columbus so that I could meet your parents!"

Bellamy just stared. Yup. He was not ready for marriage. Not commitment. Not tying the knot. Especially not to someone as airheaded as Mel.

* * *

><p>"Come on, Clarke! This is crazy." Harper yelled from her seat at Clarke's breakfast bar. "Quit stalling and show us the dress already!"<p>

Clarke glared at the closed door separating her from her friends before turning to study herself in the full length mirror that graced her closet door. She bit her lip as she turned to survey the back. The back was definitely the worst. Clarke would never understand why her mother chose a dress with a thick satin sash on a chiffon dress. The bow was huge! Sighing, she tuned again to look at herself from the front. It really wouldn't look so bad it weren't for the sash and layers of fabric draped across the chest to the one-shoulder sleeve. She took a step back from the mirror and twirled once, watching as the fabric flowed with the movement. At least the color is nice, she thought wryly, playing with the soft, mauve layers with her fingers.

"Clarke, this is ridiculous! Hurry up!" Monroe called. "Come on, I'm sure you look beautiful! It can't be that bad, how can it be that bad?" Octavia joined in. Clarke groaned. "Okay, fine! I'm coming." She chanced one last look at herself before opening the door to stand in front of the she-devils she called her friends. "So…" she asked twirling slowly, "what do you think?"

Harper looked up from the magazine she was reading and grimaced. "Maybe it's always the bridesmaid, never the bride, because of the dresses."

Clarke paled. "Is it really that bad?" she asked. "Have fun at the prom," Monroe piped up with faux exuberance. "Well thanks," Clarke said with no small amount of sarcasm. Octavia just laughed from where she was lounging on the couch. "Hey, what's Finn wearing?" she asked, taking pity on her friend and changing the subject.

Clarke shrugged as she walked back to her room. "I don't know what Finn is wearing. It's not like he's walking me down the aisle." Octavia hummed in response just as the tune to the Wedding March began to play.

Clarke glanced up from where she was packing her cosmetics "What is that?!" Exiting her room she saw Monroe holding Clarke's phone while the music streamed from the device. "Is that my phone, give it to me!" Monroe laughed as Clarke lunged for the device. "Oh-ho, I'm sorry! What were you saying about walking down the aisle?" she retorted, jumping out of Clarke's reach behind the couch, waving the offending item.

"Monroe!" Clarke dashed around the couch reaching for her phone, just as Monroe executed a somersault over the back of the couch and plopped down on the cushions. Monroe leaned her head back and held up the phone, grinning cheekily. "At least all those years of gym and cheer have paid off," Clarke said, trying to glare at her friend, but unable stop the grin that split her lips. Monroe just laughed. "Yeah, what would daddy-dearest do if I couldn't at least perform a somersault anymore. All that money, gone for nothing."

The sound of a horn honking repetitively ceased the girl's mirth. Clarke's grin quickly slid from her face at the sound of the familiar horn. "Finn is here! Crap!" she jumped up from the couch and ran into her room, unzipping her dress on the way.

Outside, Finn continued to honk the horn. "Come on Clarke! We don't have all day!" he yelled from his car.

Octavia rolled her eyes. "What is this guy's problem?" she muttered as she walked out to the balcony. "She'll be right down!" she yelled to Finn. Finn slid himself out the open window and sat on the ledge of the door. "Come one Clarke, Columbus is waiting!" Octavia groaned. "Oh suck it, Finn."

Walking back inside, she heard Harper ask, "Clarke, what did you tell your family about Finn?" There was a moment of silence before Clarke answered, "Nothing. I just told them I was bringing home a mystery man and that was it." The three girls shared a look. "So they don't know he's in a band?" Monroe asked.

Clarke walked out of her room pulling on her jacket, oblivious to the awkward glances her friends shared. "No, they don't even know that he is a musician."

"Oh, well I'm sure they'll love his demo." Harper said slyly, nudging Monroe in the shoulder sending the three girls into giggles. Clarke folded her arms across chest and frowned. "Okay, you know what…I thought that if we could spend a few days, alone with family," Clarke emphasized, "maybe my parents can meet the Finn Collins that I know."

To Clarke's relief, her friends stopped laughing at her expense. They still looked unconvinced, but Clarke knew that they just haven't tried hard enough to get to know Finn. He's sweet, caring, a little possessive, sure, but Clarke just had a feeling that he just might be the One. He has to be. Clarke was getting tired of all her friends getting engaged and married and starting families of their own, while she just had one failed relationship after the next. But not Finn. Finn's different. She just needs to convince her friends of that.

Just then the silence was broken with the obnoxious honking of a horn from the street. Octavia grimaced and glanced at her watch. "Go on, it's almost three. You need to get to the airport." Reaching over and pulling her friend a hug, she continued, "I'll call you tomorrow. Now go before you miss your flight!"

* * *

><p>AN: I love the fake date/relationship trope...check that...I'm obsessed. So, here I am, venturing into the world of fanfiction. Long-time reader and reviewer, first-time publishing author on this site. Un-beta'ed, all mistakes are my own. Leave me a comment and let me know what you think!

Disclaimers: Based on a film. I own nothing.


	2. Chapter 2

Clarke sat in Finn's car as he drove to the airport, a heavy silence looming over them. Finn glanced over at Clarke's perturbed expression and inwardly groaned. After he had apologized for honking obnoxiously outside of her housing complex, he had said that it didn't matter if they were late to her mom's wedding. Frowning at his own stupidity, he turned towards Clarke. "How many times do you want me to say I'm sorry?"

Clarke bit her tongue in an effort to hold back the retort brewing in her mind. Instead, she let out a sigh and turned to observe the traffic. "Once would be nice."

In all honesty, her comment wasn't fair, Clarke knew. She was well aware that Finn had only made the comment about her mom's wedding to try to stem her annoyance at his honking display earlier, but she couldn't help but be offended. Sure, Clarke and Abby had a rocky relationship, but Clarke loved her mom and knew that Abby loved her. She was more than a little insulted.

Finn huffed at Clarke's behavior. He really hadn't meant what he said, and he had apologized. Why did Clarke have to be so stubborn? A song began to play on the radio, making him grin. Clarke never could stay mad at him for long when he sang. "Oh darling! Please forgive me…" he crooned, and sure enough, he saw Clarke's expression soften. Finn's smile widened and he thanked the stars that song played when it did. Tapping his cheek he started teasing Clarke. "Come on, lay one on me."

Clarke laughed and shoved his shoulder playfully. "No! You're driving!"

When they arrived at the parking lot to the airport, Finn started arranging the luggage and tying several bags together with rope. Clarke wondered why it took him so long to tie a knot, but if the childhood knot-tying chant is any indication, she suspected he forgot how. Clarke hugged her sweater around her body as a cool breeze played with her hair. She glanced at her watch and sighed, 3:54 pm. She's trying to be patient, but after the late start and traffic they hit on the way to the airport, they have approximately fifteen minutes before their flight begins boarding. Clarke silently said a prayer of thanks that she had the foresight to pre-check-in their luggage. Glancing back at Finn still struggling with the luggage, she sent up another prayer, only this one is asking for patience.

"Maybe if you loop it arou-"

"Clarke! Please!" Finn snapped. Clarke looked sharply at her boyfriend. What is it with men thinking that they can do everything all on their own? Her musings were interrupted by the ringing of a cell phone. Finn stopped trying to tie the rope and looked at Clarke incredulously. "Is that your cell phone?"

Clarke silently cursed Monroe for changing her ringtone in the first place, then herself for not changing it back. "Oh, it's my brother." She said more to herself than Finn, since he had already turned back to his rope. "Hey, Wick. What's up?"

_"Hey sister-of-mine! What time are you coming in?"_

Despite initially being glad to hear Wick's voice, she rolled her eyes in annoyance. She had called Kane—her mother's fiancé—this morning, telling him what time to expect her, and had emailed Abby her flight itinerary the day before. "Are you serious?"

_"Hey, don't get mad at me. Mom asked me to triple check. You know how she is."_

"You couldn't have just pretended to have spoken to me? Raven knows what time I'm flying in, you could have asked her."

_"Nah, Mom's too smart for me to one-up her like that without her finding out. So humor a guy and tell me what time you land."_

Clarke sighed. It was true; Wick never could keep a secret from Abigail Griffin. "Midnight. For what better be the last time, I land in Columbus at midnight."

"Clarke, do you have a knife or something?" Clarke's conversation was interrupted by Finn's question.

"No. Why would I bring a knife to the airport?" Clarke questioned.

_"Wait, your mystery man wants you to bring a knife to the airport? Call 911, he's a terrorist."_ Wick joked over the phone

"Yeah," Clarke dead-paned, "He's terrifying."

Wick hummed over the phone and changed the subject. _"Have you seen Bellamy?"_

Clark replied shaking her head. "Nope, haven't seen him. Try him on his cell. I gotta go." Hanging up she ignored Wick's protests. Looking at the time on her screen before putting it in her pocket, she lets out a grunt of frustration. 4:06 pm. If Finn doesn't hurry up, they're going to miss their flight.

* * *

><p>Bellamy sat at the bar in the restaurant just outside of his gate completely Mel-less, sipping his beer and occasionally munching on the pretzel sticks in the basket in front of him. He grimaced at how his break-up with Mel had gone down, and although it was messy, he was incessantly glad he had ended things with Mel when he did. Mel was a sweet girl, but not the girl for him. He hoped that she found someone who was ready to settle down and start a family, just like she wanted, but he was not that man. Bellamy chuckled. His family hadn't known he was planning on bringing anyone with him to Abby's wedding. At least now he wouldn't have to explain why he arrived date-less.<p>

His cell phone began to ring and he pulled it out, a slight smile tweaking his lips when he saw Wick's name on the screen. "Hey Wick."

_"Well I don't like how the Blue Jackets are playing either."_

Bellamy grinned sheepishly at his friend's words. Both he and Wick had played hockey all throughout their youth, and Bellamy had even gotten a full-ride hockey scholarship to Ohio State University. "I'm sorry man. It's been a rough day." At Wick's snort, Bellamy continued. "I'll tell you about it when I get to Columbus."

_"I can't wait,"_ came Wick's amused reply. _"Have you seen Clarke yet? I'm dying to see her mystery man."_

Bellamy looked up from the bar in front of him and scanned the seats at his gate. "Nope. No sign of Clarke." Turning back toward the bar, Bellamy's gaze landed on a newcomer approaching the bar. "But something did just pop up on the radar."

Bellamy took a moment to appreciate the woman at the bar. Long auburn hair, pretty hazel eyes, and long legs. It struck him odd that someone would wear a white cocktail dress to the airport, but it gave him a nice view of her chest and ass , so he wasn't going to complain. And if the looks of approval from the other men in the bar are any indication, neither would anyone else. Wick's voice of protest brought him out of his perusal and drew his attention back to his cell.

_"Bellamy no! You have to get on this plane; it's my mom's wedding at your parents' house."_

Bellamy chuckled. "Wick relax. My flight's been delayed."

_"How long?"_ came Wick's slightly distressed voice

"Three hours." Bellamy truthfully responds. In all honesty, he was more than annoyed when he found out how long the delay was, but as he glanced back at the woman flirting with the bartender, he'd be lying if he said he still was.

_"Damn. How hot is she?"_

Bellamy ended the call in response and walked over to the woman at the bar.

* * *

><p>After Clarke ended her call with Wick, she turned back to Finn, only to find him still struggling with the rope. While she understood that tying the luggage together would save them time in the long run when they reached Columbus, it wouldn't do them any good if they missed their flight now. She was just about to open her mouth and tell him so, when another voice cut through the air.<p>

"Finn?"

Finn looked up from his rope and paled slightly. "Jasper! Hey! What are you doing here?"

The man Finn called Jasper shrugged. "Just dropping off Maya's mom."

Finn nodded. "By yourself?" At the sound of a woman's exclamation, however, he gulped and ran his fingers through his hair.

"Is that Finn?"

"Yeah, it's me alright." Finn wearily replied.

The woman looked pleased with herself and smiled. "I thought that was you."

Clarke glanced questionably at her boyfriend. If these people were his friends, why was he acting so strange? Even when meeting people he didn't know, or like for that matter, Finn was the sweetest and most friendly human being Clarke had met. Ignoring his peculiar attitude, she introduced herself. "Hi, I'm Clarke."

The woman looked sharply at Clarke, her smile faltering. "Maya. And this is my husband, Jasper."

Recognition dawned on her and she exclaimed, "Oh, you guys are Jasper and Maya! It's so good to finally meet you!"

Something akin to nervousness settled over Jaspers features. "Um, you too. Honey, we should probably go..."

Maya shook her head. "No, hold on a second." She said as she walked up to Clarke. "Are you a friend of Keenan's?

Clarke cocked her head to the side, confused. "Who's Keenan?"

Maya regarded Clarke carefully before responding coldly, "Finn's wife."

* * *

><p>AN: Ha! I finally posted the second chapter. Hopefully the next update wont take as long. I had this chapter all written up, but then this thing I call "LIFE" got in my way...

The next chapter is already written, I just have to edit it. Leave me a comment and let me know what you think; constructive criticism is always appreciated :)


	3. Chapter 3

Finn's wife.

The words kept ringing in Clarke's ears in cold finality. She supposed that she should feel something. Anger, hurt, rejection, anything. Instead, as she rushed through the parking lot to the terminal doors, her suitcase lugging behind her, all she could feel was numb.

Finn was married.

Through the haze in her mind, Clarke could make out the sound of Finn calling her name, pleading for her to give him a chance to explain. Clarke stubbornly shook her head, the memory of Finn's mortified expression burned in her mind. She had wanted to believe Maya was lying, wanted to believe that Finn would never cheat on her, had wanted to believe Finn was hers. But when she turned around and looked at his face, she knew that Maya was telling the truth. One glance was all she needed. Inhaling sharply, she walked over to the luggage Finn had been trying to tie together and grabbed her suitcase's handle. It had taken every bit of strength Clarke had to not break-down right then and there. Instead, Clarke closed her eyes and faced the man who had shattered her heart with one blow. "Goodbye, Finn," Clarke let out before she turned and dashed across the parking lot to the ticketing counter.

Now, as Clarke heard Finn's yells, she wished he had stayed behind at the car. The numb feeling that had spread through her veins at Maya's words was now fading, and a white-hot anger was steadily taking its place.

"Clarke! Clarke please, just wait a second!" Finn called.

"Why, so you can come up with a fresh new lie?" Clarke retorted over her shoulder.

Clarke heard Finn sigh. "Alright, I deserved that. But please, can we just talk about this? Give me a chance to explain!"

The anger Clarke felt rising in her chest exploded. Whirling violently to face Finn she hissed, "Talk? We cannot just talk about this! I trusted you, Finn. I was taking you to meet my family!"

Finn's eyes reflected remorse at Clarke's words. "Clarke please. Keenan and I are pretty much separated. It didn't matter."

Clarke's mouth dropped at his words. "Pretty much separated? Didn't matter?! Finn, she's your wife. It matters!" Dejected, she continued, "Why couldn't you have just told me the truth?"

Finn reached out and gripped her shoulders, eyes burning with intensity. "Keenan and I don't love each other anymore. We've both known that for a while. We're getting divorced. But Clarke, I love you. I'm in love with you. I want to be with you, spend the rest of my life with you. And I want it to start right now, regardless of my marital status, because I love you. Please Clarke."

Despite Clarke's better judgment, she felt her heart soften to his words. Finn made her feel special and cherished. He brought her flowers, made her laugh, hugged her when she was upset, came to her art galleries, held her while she cried when her dog died. He was everything she wanted in a future spouse. Kind, gentle, caring, strong, supportive, and loving. But as Clarke mulled this over in her head, she realized there was one virtue was not on that list. Honesty. Clarke cherished honesty almost above all else. If Finn couldn't be honest with her about his marriage, what else has he not been truthful with? Hardening her resolve, she pushed his hands of her shoulders. "Goodbye Finn," she whispered, as she turned away.

"Clarke…" Finn pleaded.

Clarke felt the rage rise in her chest once again. Furious, she turned and, fisting his shirt in her left hand, she raised her right fist and swung it straight into Finn's cheekbone. Finn's cry of shock and pain giving her a sliver of satisfaction. Gritting her teeth, she spat out, "I said 'goodbye!'" before spinning on her heel and rushing into the terminal, glancing back only once to see Finn covering his eye and blood drip from his nose. In spite of the situation, Clarke grinned. Then, stealing her emotions, she walked to the ticketing counter to check in her bags.

* * *

><p>Today was the shitiest day of Clarke's life. Not only had she found out her boyfriend had been cheating on her with his wife, but her flight that would carry her to her mom's wedding has been delayed three hours. Instead of flying into Columbus at midnight, she was now going to be landing at three in the morning. But to top off everything that had happened, somehow the wires in Clarke's bra had set off the security scanner, resulting in her being patted down by an airport security official. Clarke had never felt so violated in her life. How the hell did her <em>bra<em> set off the scanner?! Clarke was sure there is no way this day could possibly get any worse.

Clarke walked through the terminal to her gate, wishing she was already in Columbus. There was nothing she wanted more that to feel her mom's arms around her, comforting her just like she had when Clarke was in highschool. Well, her mom wasn't here, so a phone call would have to do. But as Clarke pulled up Abby's number on her phone, her eyes welled with tears. Even though Clarke hadn't told Abby much about her boyfriend, the things she had had been enough to show how much she loved him. Clarke had genuinely thought that Finn was the One, and had told her mother as much. No, a phone call to her mom would not cut it. Her break up with Finn was a conversation she wanted to have with Abby face-to-face. Instead, Clarke dialed Octavia. If anyone would understand, it would be her.

"_Hello_?"

"O?" was all Clarke managed before a strangled cry escaped her throat.

"_Oh, Clarke_," Octavia said softly, "_what happened_?"

The next thing Clarke knew, she was leaning against a wall in a virtually empty hallway, sobbing into her phone. She didn't know what was more pathetic; the fact that she was leaning against a wall for support or that she had become one of those girls—the ones who loose themselves after a breakup.

Octavia listened patiently, her heart breaking for her friend. It was moments like these that she cursed the day she ever decided to get her Master's degree in fine arts. Once Clarke's sobs lessened and she began to compose herself, Octavia spoke, "_Do you want me to hunt down his dipshit ass? I'll make him wish he never set foot in San Diego._"

"No." Clarke sniffed, "No, don't bother. He's not worth it."

"_Like hell he's not! Come on, at the very least, I'll make an example out of him for anyone to see what happens when you mess with my best friend's heart. I'm calling Monroe and Harper. We're going to town on him tonight. What's his address?_"

Clarke laughed in spite of her tears. "Thanks O. But I'd rather you didn't. Whatever Finn was to me, he isn't any longer. I want to put him behind me. And I don't want him to have the satisfaction of knowing I had someone enact revenge."

Octavia scoffed. "_Oh, please. What's he gonna do? Retaliate? He really has no idea who he's messing with. You're going to be in Columbus for a week, and when you get back you'll have Harper, Monroe, and myself as your wingwomen. If he knows what's good for him, he'll stay away._"

"I really hate you, you know that right? Why'd you have to have midterms the week of my mom's wedding?" Clarke sighed. "I really wish you were here with me."

"_Me too. And no you don't. But look at it this way: you're going out of town for your mom's wedding, sans two-timing ex, and you are going to see one of your best friends in the whole world. Carve it up, have fun, and forget about that bastard you dated._"

Clarke laughed. "Thanks O." Realizing her need for a tissue, she stood up. "I've got to go. I'll talk to you later. Love you."

"_Love you too. Bye_."

Clarke was about to end the call, but a split second later, she hurried to say, "Octavia?."

"_Hmm_?" Octavia hummed over the line.

Clarke took a deep breath. "6046 Fellmar Avenue."

Octavia chortled. "_Yes_!"

"Bye, O." Clarke rolled her eyes before ending the call and heading off in search of a restroom. She had just found one and was about to enter, when she stopped and saw a couple standing together just outside of the bathrooms. As she watched, she saw the guy wrap his arms around the girl's waist and lean in to kiss her temple, causing the girl to smile and lean into the kiss. All the sorrow Clarke had thought she had shed in her conversation with Octavia came rushing back in a flood, and she rushed into the restroom, tears streaming down her face. She couldn't believe how emotional she had become. She'd experienced breakups before and she was no stranger to exes. But she had never been so torn up over a boyfriend before. She supposed that she was overly emotional because her mother was getting married in two days, leaving her the last unmarried female in her family. Just the thought of her mom's wedding brought a new rush of tears that quickly escalate into hiccuping sobs.

"You alright in there?" a motherly voice asked, knocking lightly on the stall door.

Clarke looked up and tried to control her breathing. "Yes. I'm fine." She said before reaching for some tissue to blow her nose. Exiting the stall, she walked to the sinks where a middle aged woman was freshening up her makeup. Meeting her concerned gaze, Clarke halfheartedly said, "I'm okay. I just get a little emotional around my period."

The woman—whom Clarke assumed to be a flight attendant due to her outfit—cracked an amused smile. "Tell me about it. Try starting your cycle while working first class on a 14 hour flight to Tokyo."

Clarke nodded back, grateful the woman didn't press the issue further. Turning to the sinks, she grimaced at her appearance. She quickly set about washing her face, not caring for etiquette anymore. Once she had finished, she stared at herself for a moment before she let out a sigh. She looked pathetic. Red face, swollen eyes, mascara forming raccoon eyes on her face. Clarke's stare-off with herself was interrupted by the appearance of a makeup remover wipe entering her line of vision. The woman was looking sympathetically at her in the mirror. "Here. No sense running around an airport with coon eyes, now is there?" the woman asked kindly.

Clarke accepted the wipe gratefully and started wiping the makeup off her face. "Thank you." she said. She wiped the remnants of her makeup off before rummaging through her purse for her concealer. After searching in vain for several minutes, Clarke let out a frustrated groan as she slammed her purse on the counter.

"Honey, why don't you take one of these." the flight attendant said, placing a small capsule on the counter next to Clarke's purse.

Clarke eyed the pill warily before asking, "What is it?"

"A flight attendant's best friend," the woman responded. Seeing Clarke's skeptical look, she continued, "In my line of work you have to smile no matter what your hormones are doing." With a friendly smile, the flight attendant left the restroom.

Clarke stared at the pill. It could be anything and Clarke did not want to end up strung out in a terminal two days before her mom's wedding. Abby would have an aneurysm if she found out her daughter took an unnamed drug from a stranger. In the end, Clarke threw caution into the wind and downed the pill with some tap water from the sink.

* * *

><p>AN: I'm not entirely sure what to think about this chapter. I've never had a messy breakup like that, so I'm not sure if I did it justice or not. And I'm sorry no Bellamy in this chapter. He'll be in the next one, don't worry. I just felt that this chapter should be all about Clarke. It's a bit longer than the last ones, so I hope you all enjoy it. Remember to R&R!


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: This update has been long in coming, I know. I started college back up last week, then had family come into town this past week, so I haven't had much of an opportunity to write. Hopefuly, it wont be so hard to get updates out, but you never know. But in the meantime, have some Bellamy!

* * *

><p>"Bellamy, your hands are magic!" the auburn haired woman—Trina—murmured.<p>

Bellamy smirked as he rubbed circles into her back. A few suggestive glances, some small talk, and flirting had led to Bellamy giving Trina a massage in a private sector of the bar.

"You keep that up and I'm going to have to follow you to Columbus" she said looking over her shoulder seductively.

Bellamy's smirk grew, taking her boldness in stride. "Yeah? Well I'm thinking I can't wait that long."

Trina slipped off the bar stool and turned towards Bellamy, splaying her hands on his shoulders and lightly drumming her thumbs on his collarbone. "Well," she drawled, "there's a hotel five minutes from here."

Bellamy raised an eyebrow in consent and reached for his backpack.

"Bellamy!"

Bellamy looked around, surprised to hear his name. His surprise tuned into confusion when he spotted Clarke standing at the entryway of the bar, waving enthusiastically. While he and Clarke were amiable with each other, they never sought out the other's company, unless circumstances were dire enough to warrant the other's help. If Clarke calling him—in a public place no less—wasn't enough to merit suspicion, her exuberant waving was. Clarke had never liked garnering attention in public.

"Clarke" Bellamy greeted her, slightly perturbed his exit with Trina was delayed. His annoyance waned quickly though, when he noticed that Clarke was acting much more uncharacteristic than he had originally thought. His eyes narrowed as he watched Clarke amble over with an enormous grin on her face. Clarke had never grinned at him like this before. The most he had been able to elicit from her were quirked lips. Clarke's smiles were rare; when she was amused her lips would twitch and threaten to break into a smile, but they rarely did. Her smiles were reserved for her close friends and they most certainly never occurred simply because of his presence. His confusion over Clarke's behavior amplified when Clarke finally reached him and looked him up and down before throwing her arms around his neck. Bellamy looked down at her in disbelief when he heard her giggle. Clarke giggled? He glanced over at Trina, only to see her looking at Clarke with no small amount of annoyance.

"Um, Clarke?" Bellamy asked. Waving, giggling, and now hugging? Clarke's behavior was starting to worry him.

Clarke finally released Bellamy and turned excitedly to Trina, smiling animatedly before turning her affections to Trina, wrapping her in a hug similar to the one she had given Bellamy.

Trina gaped at Clarke's actions and glared at Bellamy over Clarke's shoulder, all the while trying to detangle herself from Clarke's grasp. Bellamy might have laughed at the situation, had he not been so concerned over Clarke's peculiar behavior. "Clarke, this is Trina, Trina this is Clarke." Bellamy gestured feebly between the two ladies. "Clarke is my best friend's kid sister. She's going to the same wedding in Columbus."

Trina frowned. Kid is right. If the girl wasn't mental, she was drunk or high as hell. Disgusting. She caught Bellamy's eyes again and raised a brow. Her glare prompted him to action, and he gently loosened Clarke's arms from Trina. "Okay, Clarke, can I see you for a minute?" Clarke's lips twisted into a pout as Bellamy led her to an empty table. "Can you just sit there for a second?" Clarke continued to pout, but sat obediently on one of the stools. Relieved, Bellamy turned and walked back toward Trina, who was waiting with an impatient frown. Bellamy leaned against the bar, scratching his head sheepishly. "I'm sorry, I have no idea what's gotten in to her." Bellamy chuckled. "I think someone slipped her ecstasy."

Trina smirked and drew closer to Bellamy, looking up at him through hooded lashes. "I could do with some ecstasy. The good, old-fashioned kind."

Bellamy inwardly sighed. As tempted as he was to continue his romp with Trina, he knew he couldn't leave Clarke alone in a bar, as high as she was on god-knows what. Instead of answering, he looked over Trina's shoulder at Clarke, who flirting with a guy Bellamy could only describe as a gangster. Bald, huge arms, tattoos galore.

Trina followed his gaze and turned back to Bellamy with a scoff. "Oh come on Bellamy. She'll be fine."

Again, Bellamy didn't answer and looked pointedly at Trina. Trina huffed and grabbed her purse, taking the hint. She spun away on her heel, looking more than a little insulted.

Bellamy watched her go, somewhat disappointed. Trina had the full package—chest, ass, and legs. He was only human, who wouldn't be disappointed to watch that walk away? But Clarke was Octavia's best friend, who would kill him if anything happened to Clarke. And although he would never admit it, even under the circumstance of impending death, Bellamy cared for Clarke the same way he cared for his sister. If anything he felt responsible for her, with her family two thousand miles away. When Clarke had first moved to San Diego, both Abby and Wick had made him promise to look out for her in their absence. Responsibility was not an act he took lightly. As much as he wanted to cave to his carnal urges, he knew that right now, Clarke was more important than getting laid by a stranger he had met at the airport. With a sigh, Bellamy turned and started when he saw Clarke touching the bald man's head, who was eyeing her chest appreciatively. A surge of protectiveness rose in his chest and he strode over to where Clarke was giggling, completely oblivious to the man looking down her shirt. Bellamy glared pointedly at the man and grabbed Clarke's arm, leading her away to a new table on the other side of the bar. Clarke turned in his grasp and waved at the man, who was now ogling her ass. Bellamy's grip tightened and quickened his pace, roughly depositing Clarke at the table. Clarke yelped when she hit the seat and glared sullenly at Bellamy. Bellamy rolled his eyes and strode over to the bar to get a pitcher of water from the bartender. When he returned, Clarke had folded her arms on the table and was looking at the polished wood blankly. Bellamy sat down next to Clarke and poured her a glass of water. "Drink up, princess. Whatever the hell it was you took needs to flush out of your system." Bellamy grinned wryly when Clarke's owlish gaze rose from the table to meet his. "Can't have her majesty buzzed on a plane now, can we?"

Clarke's brow furrowed at the nickname, but she obediently reached for her glass and began to drink. Bellamy watched as she drained the glass before proceeding to refill it. Clarke lifted the glass to her lips but stared at the water instead of drinking it. Bellamy leaned back in his seat, folded his arms across his chest, and closed his eyes.

"I'm sorry!"

Bellamy's eyes shot open at Clarke's outburst and looked at her in surprise. Clarke had placed the glass back on the table and was looking earnestly at him with tears filling her blue orbs.

"I'm sorry I screwed everything up, I'm sorry you didn't get laid."

Bellamy stared. Clarke was upset because he didn't get laid? Clarke had rarely ever shown any interest in his conquests, but when she had, it was always dripped with distain.

"I'm sorry I wasn't perfect, I'm sorry I cared so much, I'm sorry for loving you, for thinking you felt the same, I'm sorry for wanting something that wasn't mine..."

Bellamy's mouth dropped at Clarke's words. At first he thought Clarke unreasonably upset over his missed opportunity. But hearing Clarke ramble on with apologies, he realized she was talking about someone else. For the first time, Bellamy finally noticed that Clarke was alone. Where was her mystery man? He pondered this new revelation for a minute before it clicked: Clarke was speaking of her mystery man. Whatever had happened between them between now and this morning when he spoke with O had apparently been enough to merit a breakup. And a nasty one at that, judging by Clarke's rambling and tears. Finally, Bellamy snapped out of his trance and interrupted Clarke's babbling.

"Clarke! It's okay, I forgive you." Bellamy gently shook Clarke's arm to get her attention. "I forgive you. Now, why don't you try to think of something happy, okay? Like, you're going to your mom's wedding." Bellamy was aching to know the details of what had caused the always composed Clarke to become such an emotional wreck, but he decided that if she wanted him to know, she would tell him in her own time.

Clarke stopped talking, but instead of cheering up—as Bellamy had hoped—she began to sulk. "Her second wedding."

Bellamy rolled his eyes. "So? You like Kane. He's been a part of your life before you were born. And he was your dad's best friend. He taught you self-defense and how to drive stick-shift. He became a father figure to you when your dad died. You've never had a problem with him before. Why now?"

Clarke choked back a sob and whispered, "He isn't my real dad."

Bellamy sighed and moved over to the chair next to Clarke. He had never been one to offer her comfort before, but if there was anything he understood, it was remarriage. His own biological dad had divorced his mom and hadn't contacted them since. Aurora had remarried three years later to Max Cohen. Clarke continued to gasp out sobs, so Bellamy began to rub circles on her back. Tenderness was uncharacteristic of Bellamy, so he responded gruffly, "Whatever. Things didn't go exactly as I planned today, but you don't see me crying."

Clarke stiffened under his touch. "Forget it. You wouldn't understand."

"I hate it when girls say that. What does that even mean?"

"It means you don't understand the pressure of being the last unattached female in your entire family." Clarke said bitterly.

"I wouldn't understand the pressure?" Bellamy huffed. "My parents are like parakeets. 'When are you getting married, when are you getting married, when are you getting married.'"

Clarke groaned and placed her head on the table. "I should have known he was married!"

Ah, Bellamy thought. Now we're getting somewhere. "Married, huh? Your mystery man was married?"

Clarke nodded her head and proceeded to relay the events that had led up to meeting him in the bar.

Bellamy clenched his jaw as he listened to Clarke's story, an anger brewing for a man he had never met. Clarke was no Octavia; he wouldn't go seek this Finn out and pound the living daylights out of him for Clarke like he knew he would for his sister. He did however, feel something akin to a possessiveness he had never felt before simmer in his gut. He couldn't explain the cause of such a feeling, so he shoved it as far from his mind as he could and focused instead on things he knew and could control.

"I feel like such a loser." Clarke finished her tale and began to repeatedly whack her head against the table.

"No Clar-." Bellamy sighed when he noticed Clarke's actions and shook her shoulder. "Clarke. You're not a loser. If anyone is a loser it's that lying, scumbag, son of a bitch."

"I know, I know."

"Then why are you still crying?" Bellamy questioned, genuinely confused. He'd watched Clarke date multiple men over the years, but he'd never seen her so torn-up over a breakup before. The Clarke he knew would never waste an extra breath over an ex, especially one that was as big of a douchebag as Finn.

Clarke chuckled harshly and then looked up at Bellamy with red-rimmed eyes. "But what if that lying, scumbag, son of a bitch was the best that I could do?"

Bellamy almost laughed out loud at that. A lying, scumbag, son of a bitch, the best that Clarke Griffin could do? She was valedictorian in high school, graduated college at the top of her class, was making a name for herself in the art industry, her mother was a world-renowned surgeon, her step-father owned one of the largest security agencies in the States. There was no best that Clarke Griffin could do; she was the best. If their parents weren't such good friends, Bellamy knew he would have never run in her social circle. For a time, he had even resented her and Wick for it. But there could only be so much animosity between two families who were best friends. Eventually he got over it, and made a best friend in the process. "Look at the bright side Clarke. You're single now. Guys love that." Clarke groaned and rolled her eyes at his words. Bellamy ignored Clarke's reaction. "And you're pretty, right? You're funny, you smell good." Clarke smiled weakly at that. Bellamy grinned and plowed on. "You're smart. I mean for a girl." Clarke shoved him on his shoulder and Bellamy laughed. Clarke seemed to be returning to normalcy. "You're compassionate, and stubborn, and you put up with O and me." Bellamy grinned at his lame joke and glanced to Clarke to see if she had done the same. Instead, he saw her head lying on the table and her eyes closed. He nudged her elbow several times before leaning back in his chair with a huff. "And you're completely passed out. Great."

* * *

><p>AN: How crazy was that last episode? Is anyone else going to die on Wednesday? I know I am!


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